


I'd Do Anything For Love

by MonocerosRex



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Animal Death, BAMF Lance (Voltron), I think so anyway, M/M, Werewolf Keith, Werewolves, pretty minor though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 16:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonocerosRex/pseuds/MonocerosRex
Summary: A sequel/continuation oftook the words right out of my mouthby FableButt.Lance escapes mortal danger by the skin of his teeth but has to dive back in again to save his boyfriend.





	I'd Do Anything For Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FableButt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FableButt/gifts).
  * Inspired by [took the words right out of my mouth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9768209) by [FableButt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FableButt/pseuds/FableButt). 



> So I read ttwroomm and it was so so good! It's opened ended, which is a super cool stylistic decision that I super respect BUT... I have no self control. So I wrote this ending for my soul and they graciously allowed me to post it! It got really out of control though... The result of reading open ended fic at 3am I guess :P 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Update: changed the title now that I'm properly awake to keep Fable's meatloaf theme going ;) <3

  


Keith exploded into motion, screaming out of the bedroom at the speed of light. Lance could hear him bounding down the hallway, claws scoring the walls and floor. There came an almighty crash, Lance flinching hard as he stared sightlessly at the place Keith had been standing. And then it was quiet, the night undisturbed as Keith ran into the desert.

 

Lance fell to his knees, shaking violently as he tried to suck in a lungful of air. His body felt too light, heart pumping adrenaline and helium. His instincts were a jumbled cacophony of conflicting needs— _freeze, run, hide_ — and he still couldn’t catch his breath.

 

Burying his face in his trembling hands Lance’s thoughts finally slowed down enough to hear. He wanted to call his mother, but what if she called the cops? They wouldn’t take mercy on a case like this, Keith could be shot “in defence” like so many others.

 

Hunk? He was several time zones ahead with a morphine drip, there was no way he was waking up. And even if he did, what could he do?

 

Blowing out a shuddering breath Lance forced himself to stand. It took him several tries to make his legs respond but soon he was stumbling over to the bed on watery knees, dragging on his sweatpants and trying to come up with a plan.

 

He wished Keith were here. Not Wolf-Keith, but Keith. He wouldn’t be so scared if he could hear that grumpy voice telling him what to do.

 

Somehow that thought gave him strength. Lance had to make sure Keith survived this change just as much as himself. It was a place to start.

 

Too keyed up to walk Lance sprinted to the bathroom and began filling the tub with cold water. It was no steak dinner but it would keep Keth alive in the desert until he could turn back. While it filled up Lance returned to the bedroom to scramble into some clothes and grab his phone and wallet. Despite his haste it took him a while, fingers shaking too badly for buttons or laces, so the tub was almost full by the time he returned.

 

His brain told him Keith was out hunting. He had made a point of learning about wolves after befriending Hunk, so he had a good idea of what the change entailed, and an insatiable need to feed was at the top of the list. It was why the could be so dangerous under the wrong circumstances; even humans could be food when you felt like you were starving.

 

Lance swallowed as he remembered those teeth, the feeling of hot breath on his face. He still didn’t understand how he was alive. What little brainpower wasn’t devoted to staying alive suggested a jumbled theory of _pack, cuddling, scent_ but he didn’t stop to wonder.

 

Swallowing as he stared down the hallway Lance’s feet suddenly felt like lead. Logically he knew Keith was long gone, but his lizard brain was sure if he left the “safe end” of the house he’d be dead.

 

Heart pounding so hard it _hurt_ Lance forced himself forward, creeping down the passage like pushing through mud.

 

He hesitated for far too long before the corner, but of course nothing turned out to be there. The front door lay on on the porch several metres from the house, wood splinters littering the floor. Trembling at the thought of such power Lance quickly glanced around the entrance room, eyes lighting up at the sight of a key rack.

 

There were _heaps_ of them, each hung on a little hook with a label. Most looked like they hadn’t been used in years.

 

Scanning the keys for something belonging to a vehicle Lance prayed he wouldn’t have to learn to ride a motorcycle to escape. He’d try it, no question, but it was probably just as likely to kill him as Keith at this poi—

 

He saw it. Dusty like the others despite handing near the bottom was a car key of some sort, the label faded beyond legibility. Glancing out the door for the thousandth time Lance headed towards a side door that felt like it might lead to the garage. He’d only seen Keith's house from the outside, but the layout wasn’t too complicated.

 

Twisting the handle with a silent prayer it was unlocked Lance slipped out of the foyer into the darkened room, immensely relieved to be away from the staring eye of the open doorway.

 

Fumbling for a lightswitch Lance gasped as a shelf was revealed inches from his nose. It was filled with dusty tools and buckets of paint and other garage-type things. Trying to get his heart rate under control Lance quickly scanned the unit for anything useful. The top shelf had a small flashlight with a wind-up handle and there was some dusty rope he grabbed without purpose. Rope was useful, right? Either way Lance felt better with the coil over his shoulder.

 

The lower shelves had been replaced with racks, several different firearms arranged there looking well-maintained. Lance wondered if Keith used them for anything--they were the only things in here without inches of dust built up on them.

 

He didn’t like looking at them. It was the first time he’d seen a gun since Hunk had been shot, and even his hindbrain yelling at him to get some defence couldn’t make him go near it.

Sweeping past the shelves Lance finally caught sight of the rest of the garage. It was just as huge as the rest of the place, mostly filled with benches and various mechanical projects. But on the far side was a beat-up white pick-up of the same make as the key.

 

Feeling something light in his chest for the first time since he woke up Lance rushed over, unlocking the door with shaking fingers. It clicked open easily, a puff of stale air hitting Lance in the face. Sliding into the driver’s seat he started the engine, wincing at the loud sound in the night.

 

Heart nearly bursting with happiness at the sight of the fuel gage--almost half-full!--Lance jumped out to activate the roller door.

 

Sprinting back to the imagined safety of the car before the door could get even to knee height Lance drummed his fingers on the wheel, torn between fear of being in the open and the need to run. What had seemed so quick in the space between pressing the button and reaching the truck now took an age, Lance’s muscles tightening with every slow inch of desert that was revealed.

 

It was pitch black outside, almost impossible to make out beyond the glare of the garage. Lance wondered if he should have turned out the light but reasoned that it would guide Keith to the water once he was gone.

 

What felt like an age but was probably barely thirty seconds later Lance was slamming the truck into reverse, barely avoiding a workbench in his haste to escape.

 

He only vaguely remembered the way but he wasn’t going to stop to check his phone gps. Speeding in the direction of the road Lance kept his head on a swivel, gutsure the sound of the engine would bring Keith slavering out of the dark.

 

Somehow he found the road, speeding in the direction of the bus stop and tiny speck of civilisation he’d been so glad to leave that morning. Every mile he put between then unwound something close to his heart until, at around three am, he caught sight of a light in the distance and finally let himself relax.

 

Pulling into a truckstop parking lot and switching off the engine Lance bent forward over the steering wheel, staring at his knees in the sudden quiet.

 

Now that he was no longer in immediate danger Lance didn’t know how to feel. Keith was a werewolf. Lance had almost died horribly. Just a few hours ago he’d lost his virginity and drifted to sleep in the arms of his boyfriend and now he was shaking outside a diner thousands of miles from home.

 

Two wet spots fell onto his jeans as he watched, followed by two more. Opening his mouth to breathe as his nose grew stuffy Lance surprised himself with a loud sob.

 

Sucking a heaving breath around the lump in his throat Lance curled his knees up against the wheel, burying his face in the denim to muffle the sounds he was making.

 

 _He had been so scared._ He wanted to see his mother, or talk to Hunk. He wanted Pidge to make a joke that made this all seem normal, or embarrass him again. He wanted Keith to hold him.

 

Lance didn’t know how long he sat there crying, drifting in and out of a fitful sleep, but it must have been a while. By the time he roused himself the horizon had paled, just a hint of the glory to come.

 

Stretching out his stiff legs Lance let out a sigh, feeling much calmer. He dug his phone from his pocket, his hands steady for the first time in hours, and dialed the Garrett's number.

 

“Mm, Lance?” Hunk’s mother’s sleepy voice filtered down the line after several rings.

 

“Ms Garrett,” Lance croaked. “I need--I need your help.”

 

***

The sun had been up for nearly an hour before Lance had had the guts to return to the house. Hunk’s mother had tried to convince him to drive to a hotel and contact his mother, but he had refused to leave until he knew Keith was safe.

 

He had thought she would try harder to talk him out of it, but there'd been a thread of warmth in Ms Garrett’s voice when she’d asked if he was sure.

 

“If he didn’t attack you the first time he must think of you as pack. That’s a great start but it won’t protect you if he’s hungry enough.”

 

“There isn’t much to eat in the desert.” Lance had said nervously, glancing over his shoulder and then feeling guilty.

 

“That’s what I’m worried about. If he strays as far as a town and attacks a person…” She didn’t need to continue. They both knew the penalty for murder for a wolf.

 

The thought of Keith facing the death penalty, willingly going to pay for his crimes, or, perhaps worse, months of abuse and a grisly death in prison at the hands of his fellow inmates, made Lance want to be sick.

 

“What can I do?”

 

The pair quickly came up with a plan, Lance putting her on speaker so he could use google at the same time. After they hung up Lance had run inside to pay for a full tank and a muffin, heart in his throat and steel in his veins.

 

By the time he made it back he was a mess of nerves, but it was somehow easier with the sun glaring down overhead. No big black shapes loomed around the compound as he pulled into the garage again, psyching himself up to go grab one of the shotguns hanging in the rack. He’d never used one before but he wasn’t going to need very good aim.

 

Tearing out of there just as quickly as the night before Lance instead headed north, following his phone’s directions and trying to lose himself in the monotony of the road.

 

After about two hours Lance finally caught sight of his prize. Pulling over and switching off the engine Lance swiped the gun from the back seat and jumped out into the hot sun, walking up to the fence bordering the road.

 

Inside the dry paddock was a herd of sheep, gathered around lumps of hay dotting the flat ground.

 

The closest lot were only a few yards from Lance, two of the sheep watching him but not running away.

 

Squinting into the distance Lance couldn’t see any evidence of their owners, so with only slight hesitation Lance lifted the gun to his shoulder.

 

He’d only read a wikihow on how to use it before but it felt surprisingly natural in his hands. Blowing out a breath to focus and trying not to think of the closest sheep as cute he took aim and fired.

 

The paddock erupted into motion, the sheep rushing to the far side of the field in a stampede of frightened baying, but Lance didn’t care. His quarry had dropped like a stone.

 

Swinging open the gate Lance grabbed the beast by the back legs, dragging it with immense effort to the back of the truck. It probably weighed more than two hundred pounds but Lance somehow got it into the tray with the help of the rope and more wikihow tips.

 

Soon he was on his way back, a strange sense of accomplishment buzzing in his bones beneath his worry.

 

The time flew by on the return trip, and before he knew it he was tumbling the sheep out the back into the dust.

 

Scrambling back into the imagined safety of the cab Lance geared up to leave but couldn’t help sparing a glance around, not sure if he was hoping or fearing to catch a glimpse of dark fur.

 

Something caught his eye, a flash of movement in his peripheral. Was it light reflecting off something? Peering into the sun Lance squinted his eyes for a better look. He couldn’t see anything, but he could have sworn he saw—

 

 _“DRAGON! DRAGON! ROCK THE DRAGON! DRAGONBALL Z!”_ His ringtone screamed into the car. Jumping so hard he whacked his funny bone on the door Lance glared at the thing before picking up, driving towards the road with his free hand.

 

“Hello?”

 

“LANCE!” Hunk’s voice hit his eardrum with the force of a train. “KEITH--YOU--A WOLF--SNIFFED YOU—”

 

“ _Hunk._ Calm down.” Lance felt something inside him unwind at the sound of his best friend’s voice.

 

“How can I calm down?! Mum told me everything--ohmygod, _Lance!_ You’re sure you’re okay?”

 

“I think I might have pulled something dragging that sheep into the car. Maybe I should start going to the gym with you and Shay sometime.” Settling comfortably into his role as a jokester made some of his own stress melt away as well.

 

“So you did it? You really--this is so crazy Lance I don’t even know what to think.”

 

“You and me both buddy.”

 

“So what are you doing now?”

 

“Heading to a motel. I’ve got enough on me for a couple nights.”

 

“You’re not gonna… head home?” Hunk asked tentatively.

 

“No.” Lance answered firmly. “When he wakes up he’s probably going to be just as freaked as I was. I want to be there for him when he wakes up. He…” Lance glanced around the dusty interior of the car. “He doesn’t have anyone else.”

 

Hunk was quiet for a moment, sniffling a little like he’d teared up. “You’re a good guy Lance.”

 

Lance smiled. “Thanks buddy.”

 

“No problem. You’re wrong though--he has all of us.”

 

***

 

The next two days were some of the worst Lance had ever experienced. The motel was pretty shitty and had next to no amenities. Lance shelled out extra to shower and even more for a towel, lamenting his lack of clothes and toiletries at every turn. For two days he ate nothing but gas station food and watched daytime television, bribing the motel receptionist into letting him borrow her phone charger. He was constantly caught between boredom and anxiety. With nothing to do he kept an eye on the news, praying Keith was far from town and that he’d found Lance’s food and water.

 

The group chat was his only solace.

 

 **shiftyborb:** i still think it’s pretty amazing he thinks ur pack after only meeting u once

 **JustHunky:** It’s looooove! <3

 **shiftborb:** i don’t think it’s ‘love’

 **TattleTailor69:** and what does that mean exactly, pidgeotto?

 **shiftyborb:** u fucked didn’t u

 **shiftyborb:** gross

 **TattleTailor69:** even if we did i wouldn’t tell _u_

 **shiftyborb:** that means yes

 **shiftyborb:** double gross

 

Though their conversation kept to their usual ratio of 80:20 memes to real content his friends’ frank discussion had still helped Lance normalise his experience. By the end of his second day he was desperate to see Keith again. He didn’t understand the strength of his desire--they’d been long-distance for their entire friendship. But the need to hold him, see his expression when he talked, touch his hair, _anything_ burned under his skin night and day. He would never admit it but he’d spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at Keith’s selfies while he rotted in his motel room.

 

 **TattleTailor69:** he should be back to normal by now, right??

 **JustHunky:** Not necessarily. It’s still totally within a normal range.

 **JustHunky:** How are you holding up?

 **TattleTailor69:** terrible. this whole place smells like stale farts and there’s no soap in the showers

 **TattleTailor69:** i have been using gas station soap on my hair, hunk

 **TattleTailor69:** GAS STATION SOAP

 **JustHunky:** Uhuh. I bet it’s current lack of Keiths is pretty bad too.

 **TattleTailor69:** shut up

 **TattleTailor69:** i’ll have you knfgrhxc

 **JustHunky:** Lance?

 **JustHunky:**??

 

Lance gaped at his phone as a familiar red motorcycle lit up.

 

Keith was online.

 

 **RealCryptid:** hey

 

Lance narrowed his eyes at his phone. Oh no, they were _not_ doing this again!

 

 **TattleTailor69:** where ar you??  Are yuo ok????

 **RealCryptid:** Are you?

 **TattleTailor69:** i’m fine WHERE ARE YOU

 **RealCryptid:** at the house

 **RealCryptid:** but listen

 **TattleTailor69:** i’ll be there in an hour, don’t go anywhere

 **RealCryptid:** I just wanted you to know I swear I didn’t know

 **RealCryptid:** Wait, what? You’re coming here?!

 **RealCryptid:** You’re not at home?

 **TattleTailor69:** yes i’m coming, i’m at the truck stop

 **TattleTailor69:** i’ll be there soon, don’t worry

 **RealCryptid:** worry

 **RealCryptid:** YOU should worry!!!!!!!!!

 **RealCryptid:** I almost killed you!!!!

 **TattleTailor69:** i’d like to see you try in that form mullet

 **TattleTailor69:** i’ll shoot you with my gun

 **TattleTailor69:** stop stressing and go take a nap, i can’t text and drive

 **RealCryptid:** Gun?

 **RealCryptid:** nvm Lance, you don’t need to come just for my sake. I know you’re still uncomfortable you should go be with your family!

 **RealCryptid:** Lance?

 **RealCryptid:** Lance?

 

 **TattleTailor69:** hey everyone keth is back im heasded there now ill text you in a few

 

The second he’d notified everyone Lance grabbed his megre belongings and flew to the truck, which was beginning to feel like a second home. He pushed the speed limit the entire way to Keith’s, heart in his mouth and belly full of excitement.

 

He really couldn’t wait to see him. He knew Keith was probably freaking out, caught in a storm of shock and guilt. Hopefully he’d crashed after Lance had stopped responding and wasn’t beating himself up for the long hour Lance couldn’t be there for him.

 

This was the fifth time he’d made this drive but he could have sworn it took longer than any of them.

 

By the time Keith’s place was in sight Lance was ready to explode. He sped into the drive and slammed on the brakes a little recklessly, racing past the decimated corpse of the sheep with barely a glance.

 

“Keith!” He shouted as he rushed inside, any trace of lingering fear washed away by his excitement. “Keith! Are you okay?!” He practically screamed as he dashed to the bedroom, dropping his things and launching himself at the bed.

 

The blackout curtains were still doing their job and the contrast with the outside made Lance nearly blind. But he didn’t need his sight to know Keith was there, the smell of his skin, his quiet punched out breath, soft hair in Lance’s hands.

 

“L-lance?” He whispered reverently in a sleep-roughened voice. “You’re here?”

 

“You’re damn right I am buddy.” Lance said in a shaking voice, tugging Keith foreward in a crushing hug.

 

Keith’s breath shuddered against Lance’s collarbone. His arms came up around Lance’s waist, holding him back so gently, as if Lance were a dream that could shatter at the lightest touch.

 

For a long time the both sat there, breathing each other in, until Keith finally found the courage to speak.

 

“So you don’t… hate me?” He asked in a small voice.

 

Squeezing his eyes shut Lance’s heart broke at the tentative hope in Keith’s voice. “You think I’d kill a sheep for just anyone?” He joked weakly, cinching his arms impossibly tighter around the other boy.

 

The was a pause. “That was you?”

 

“Who the hell did you think it was? Santa?”

 

“I wasn’t exactly _thinking_ anything at the time!” Keith retorted, sounding a bit more like his old self. “Where… where did you get it?” He asked more quietly.

 

“A few miles away on a farm. I shot it with a gun I found in your garage.”

 

“You… _what?”_ Keith sounded a little faint.

 

“I shot a sheep and drove it here. Couldn’t have you voring any of the locals and getting arrested now could I?” Keith was silent for a moment before pulling back, meeting Lance’s eyes with his wide ones. “What?”

 

Something shimmered in Keith’s gaze but before he could figure it out Lance was being kissed, hard. Tumbling back against the sheets Lance closed his eyes, holding Keith to him and kissing back with the same amount of intensity. Keith’s breathing was a little shaky, but then, so was Lance’s.

 

They lay there for a long time, all caught up in each other, before Keith fell back asleep. Lance thought he should probably shower and change, maybe clear up the sheep carcass outside, but for now he was content stay in their nest, Keith relaxed on top of him and, for once, nothing to be afraid of.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I had to backspace the word "ute" so many times writing this smh


End file.
